


Comfort

by MezMoriah



Series: DantexLady Week (Month) [1]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Devil May Cry 3, F/M, Post-Devil May Cry 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 07:38:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16888368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MezMoriah/pseuds/MezMoriah
Summary: My first entry for DantexLady week (or month for me because I'm slow and also about to go on vacation).Just a little post DMC3 DantexLady fluff for you all :3





	Comfort

Dante hardly expected any kindness from the woman he had just met in that damn tower. Neither of them was in any state of mind to help anyone else out. At least, he didn’t feel like being kind. After watching his brother, the only family he had left, topple off a ledge and into Hell where he could have no inkling of an idea if he would survive or find his way back, he felt like lashing out. Screaming. Fighting anything that moved. It didn’t help when they returned to his shop and he found it in shambles, reminded of the fact that he would have to have repairs done for his home to even be livable again. 

Unlike Lady, he never would have thought to offer a near stranger a place in the hotel room she had called home for a few months. He followed her into the small room after she struggled to find her key, curses mumbled under her breath. He shut the door behind him but remained awkwardly in the doorway, hands shoved deep in his pockets. There was only one bed in the room and a small recliner. A small TV sat on a stand across the bed next to the door to the tiny bathroom. He felt claustrophobic, and he sighed in relief when she opened the window. The storm had passed, and the smell of fresh rain wafted into the room. 

“Make yourself at home.” His gaze fell on Lady as she shoved her prized rocket launcher, Kalina Ann, in the corner. He still didn’t know how she had convinced the front desk not to bother her and now him about the very obvious weapons they carried. Judging by the look of the place, he assumed she easily bribed them with a little extra money each week. 

Following her lead, he removed his own weapons from his person and his coat. He hung his coat on the headboard and set Rebellion against the wall. Ebony and Ivory were placed on the nightstand next to the lamp. 

Lady sank down into the recliner with a sigh. Now that he looked, he realized how exhausted she looked. Her eyelids drooped over bicolored eyes, and her posture was limp and bent forward. He knew it wasn’t just the physically demanding trials of Temen-Ni-Gru that weighed on her. She had been through emotional hell and back just as much as him that day. 

“I, uh, I can help pay for this,” he muttered, toeing his boots off and tucking them next to the nightstand. “I don’t have much, and a lot of what I have saved is gonna have to go toward fixing my shop, but I can give you something for sharing the room with me.” 

Lady glanced up from her boot strings. Even from here, Dante could see redness in her eyes from the tears she shed herself. As if hearing his thoughts, she glanced back down at her feet and kicked her boots off. 

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” she muttered as she lifted the makeshift bandage on her thigh to check the wound her own bayonet had left thanks her own father. The blood stain reminded him that she was human. A formidable, strong, talented human. But human. One that didn’t heal in seconds and wouldn’t survive an impaling or being shot in the face. And yet she still fought demons. She had fought him without batting an eye. “Not now, at least. You can pay me back later. This...hasn’t been the easiest day for either of us.” 

He nodded, inwardly relieved. He hated being in debt to her already; they had only met a few hours ago and she had shot a rocket at him after soaring through the air on a motorcycle. Damn...If he wasn’t sure she hated him and they weren’t both so emotionally spent, he might have actually tried to woo her. He had a thing for badass women, but, at the moment, his libido felt nonexistent. He felt lost, and he hardly recognized himself in that moment. If he had looked into the future to this moment but twenty-four hours before, he wouldn’t recognize himself. He would scoff at the puffiness around his eyes, the slump of his shoulders, the fact that he wasn’t on top of the beautiful woman he shared a room with. It was a strange feeling. It made him uncomfortable, though he didn’t have the energy or willpower to do much about it. The bed started to look more and more inviting, lumpy as it looked. But first, he needed a shower. 

“Mind if I get a shower?” He managed a smile, though he doubted his really reached his eyes. It felt forced. Dead. “I smell like a demon’s asshole.” 

The smile that twitched the corners of her lips matched his. “You really do. For my sake if not yours, please do.” 

Dante snorted and headed toward the bathroom. “Feel free to join. We can save this place on their water bill.” The offer was half-hearted. And empty attempt at finding his old self again. At least it distracted him from his troubled mind. 

He flipped the switch in the bathroom and closed the door. Leaning against the wood frame, he released a sigh. Hot tears burned his eyes and he finally let them drip from his eyes. His frame shuddered as he fought to hold back his sobs, the screams of anguish caught in his chest. He felt like a failure again. First his mom, now his brother. His hope (small as it had been) to live a life with even one member of his family was extinguished as quickly as it had sparked. He should have tried harder to save him. Convince him to stay. That their stupid father’s home wasn’t meant for them. They were meant to be there. In the human world. Together. Living something of a normal life after all they had been through. 

His fingers curled into his palms as he cursed under his breath and swiped at his eyes. He started to unbutton his jeans when he paused. The only soap in the shower was obviously Lady’s, and the last thing he wanted was for her to find any other reason to put a bullet between his eyes. Now that he had allowed his devil to awaken, he itched to resurface at even the slightest irritation. He didn’t want to give himself a reason to lose control. 

Dante opened the door and began to ask for permission to use her lily scented shampoo but paused. Lady had moved to sit on the edge of the bed. Her face was buried in her palm, and the other hand gripped the comforter beneath her. Sensitive ears caught the sound of her soft sobs despite her attempt to muffle them with her hand. 

The sight made his heart ache despite his own sorrows. She just watched her own family burst to pieces as well, and he suspected many of her wounds were fresher than his. He didn’t know the whole story; only that her dad went crazy and killed her mom to break the seal Dante’s own father had place on the demon world and bring literal hell on earth. Gain the power of Sparda and whatever bullshit he led himself to believe. Judging by her rage, she was at least old enough to know exactly what was going on. 

Silently, quieter than one of his stature should be able to move, Dante crossed the room to her. The second the mattress sank down beside her, Lady flinched away, nearly sending herself off the edge of the bed. His hand hovered in the air where her shoulder had been, but the glare she shot him lowered it. 

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare ya...” 

“What? Think you can take advantage of me because I’m crying?” 

Dante flinched. The sad part was that, if she had been someone else, that might have actually been his plan. “No...I just...I don’t know. I’m shit at this comforting stuff.” 

Lady crossed her arms and scoffed. “Then why are you even trying? I thought you were going to take a shower.” 

“I was, but I didn’t want to use your soap without asking.” Out loud, it sounded a little stupid to even ask. Though, he supposed the twitch of a smile that he nearly missed as she wiped her face with her hand was worth it. “That stuff ain’t cheap. And I didn’t see anything provided by this shit hole.” 

“Help yourself. Never thought a demon could be so considerate.” 

The comment stung. It was a reminder that his heritage had caused all of this. That, in some ways, he was responsible for her family shattering to pieces. Did she blame him like he blamed himself? 

“I’m sorry.” He glanced away from her, but he could feel her curious gaze burning a hole in the side of his head. “I know this whole thing was because of me. Well...my dad and him being a demon who betrayed his kind but...I’m sure you hate me because of what I am but I am sorry.” 

Silence fell over the room for several minutes, one so full it seemed as if the sound of their breathing had ceased along with their words. He should say something else. Even get up to go take his shower and leave her in peace. He had already made the situation uncomfortable, so he should ditch now before he made it worse. Lady couldn’t care less if he was sorry. Not because she was cold, but because he was a demon. To her, he was the worst of the worst. Demons were never sorry. 

The featherlight touch on his wrist stopped his train of thought dead in its tracks. He glanced over to find Lady resting next to him again. She wore a small, tight smile despite the tears in her eyes. Guilt and relief washed over him at the same time; he wasn’t sure how to read her reaction. Did he upset her more or was she happy? 

“No...It’s not your fault. None of this,” she finally croaked out. Her free thumb wiped away her tears. “You’re different. I know you are. It took me a while to realize it, but I know you’re not evil, even if you are part demon.” 

Her bicolored gaze fell. He took a chance and shifted his hand into hers. She didn’t flinch away. “I’m learning quickly that some humans are worse than demons.” 

Dante squeezed her hand. “Yeah...” He smiled as she rested her head on his shoulder. He could have added more. Added how that was a harsh reality he still needed to learn. Something that might help him accept himself for who he was. He couldn’t change it after all. 

He glanced down at the woman resting against him. Her eyes were closed and her breathing had evened out. He chuckled softly to himself and wrapped an arm around her frame to support her. The whole ordeal must have exhausted her more than he thought, though he wasn’t surprised. He didn’t quite mind either. His shower could wait. 

If she could see the good in him—enough to pass out on his shoulder despite her intense hatred of devils—then, maybe someday he could, too.


End file.
